The Wildflower dropped out of hyperspace abruptly, the sudden deceleration sending a ripple through the ship. Warning lights flared across the bridge as the crew scrambled to assess the situation. Ahead of them, the Syndicate ship loomed—a predatory silhouette against the stars, its weapons charging.

Magnolia’s body jolted awake in her quarters, heart racing as if her instincts had sensed the danger before her mind fully caught up. She sat up, disoriented, as the voice of Viera filtered through the ship’s internal comms, calm yet urgent.

“Magnolia. We’re under attack. There’s something you need to see.”

Magnolia didn’t question it, forcing herself out of bed even as the residual ache from her connection to the Forge lingered in her muscles. Viera was waiting for her in the chamber below the treasure room, standing beside a crate that hummed faintly with stored energy.

“This,” Viera said, her tone filled with a mix of reverence and urgency, “was waiting for you.”

Magnolia approached the crate, her steps slow, hesitant. The lid slid open with a soft hiss, and her breath caught in her throat. Inside, carefully arranged and glowing faintly with ancient power, were battle suits unlike anything she had ever seen.

They were sleek, form-fitting, and undeniably Tovan in design—or at least created by a civilization that had reached a comparable pinnacle of technological and artistic achievement. Each suit bore intricate tribal markings that seemed to dance as the light shifted, alive with latent energy.

Magnolia’s eyes were drawn to the largest suit, positioned at the center. It was different—special. She reached out, her fingers brushing the smooth material. As soon as she made contact, the runes on the suit flared to life, matching the pulsing glow of the ones on her own skin.

“It’s keyed to you,” Viera said, watching with a mix of awe and certainty. “And to them.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Magnolia turned, following Viera’s gaze to where her hive—her Pets—stood at attention. Each one approached the crate in turn, drawn to a specific suit as though it called to them. Rahim’s was regal and imposing, the markings on his suit glowing gold. Eryon’s exuded an energy that crackled with playful intensity. Thyren’s was heavy, fortified with additional armor, the glow a deep, protective red.

One by one, they donned their suits, the material adjusting seamlessly to their forms. Each was unique, emphasizing the individual strengths and natures of her hive. Liora’s suit bore an ethereal, flowing design, with a helmet that gave her an almost spectral presence. Sira’s was sleek and sharp, adorned with designs reminiscent of fangs. Rilan’s creativity was reflected in the adaptive, modular nature of their suit, which pulsed with a restless light.

As Magnolia stepped into her own suit, it seemed to envelop her like a second skin. The material was impossibly light, yet she could feel its power thrumming beneath the surface. The runes on the suit pulsed in sync with her heartbeat, brighter than those on the others.

Then, with a soft hiss and a flicker of light, the translucent wings unfolded from her back. They flexed as though alive, catching the ambient light in a shimmering display. Magnolia couldn’t help but let out a small, incredulous laugh.

“Wings?” she murmured, glancing at Viera.

“Of course,” Viera said with a small smile. “They’re yours, aren’t they?”

Magnolia turned to her hive, who had fully suited up. Their helmets reflected their animalistic nature—one with sharp catlike ears, another resembling a fierce rabbit, their designs both beautiful and terrifying. The sight of them all together sent a surge of pride and determination through her.

“We’re out of time,” Viera reminded her.

Magnolia nodded, her hand brushing the edge of her helmet as it slid into place. The interior lit up with a transparent HUD, information flowing across her vision in a language she instinctively understood.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice firm, the Wildflower’s hum now resonating through her.

As they moved toward the bridge, the ship seemed to respond to their presence, its systems aligning with their steps. The Syndicate might have been waiting for them, but they weren’t prepared for this.

Magnolia and her hive were ready.